


these are what they call hard feelings of love

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epistolary, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Jack being Jack, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e13 Exit Wounds, Torchwood Two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: Torchwood Three is down to only three members, and the time has come for Ianto to make his annual trip to Torchwood House in Scotland. Through texts, phone calls, and one rambling voicemail, Jack and Ianto chat, flirt, fumble around feelings, and try to find balance in a relationship that has become more than either of them originally expected.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 26
Kudos: 61





	these are what they call hard feelings of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yavemiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavemiel/gifts), [Flamingbluepanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamingbluepanda/gifts).



> For Alicia and Ro. This was meant to be your collective birthday fic, but I found better ideas for both of you, but I still had this lying around so I decided to finish it. I hope you enjoy this!

**Day 1: Morning**

“Why are you leaving me?” asks Jack, pouting at Ianto as he wraps loose arms around the other man in the Hub one very early Sunday morning.

Despite the sudden weight draped against his back, Ianto’s deft hands do not still as they work the coffee machine. “Again, it’s only four days, Jack. Four days in Scotland, reorganizing Torchwood House’s archives.”

“That sounds like a paradise for you,” Jack teases, pressing soft kisses along the length of Ianto’s neck. He tries to worm a hand under the collar of Ianto’s dress shirt, but the other man leans away. “You, at least a hundred years worth of artefacts, and quiet in that old manor.”

“And also cobwebs and dust,” Ianto reminds him, stepping slightly away from Jack to pull their mugs from the cupboard - one black, one blue-striped. “And I have no desire to desert you and Cardiff for Archie.”

“He used to be a looker,” Jack says wistfully. “This was at least two centuries ago, but he used to be quite easy on the eyes.”

Ianto groans, filling the mugs with coffee before stirring in the appropriate amounts of cream and sugar. “Please. I do not need to think about you and Archie from Torchwood Two before sunrise. I will have plenty of time for that kind of perversion while driving.”

“C’mon,” Jack wheedles as they sit on the couch with their drinks. “You don’t have to go. The Rift appears to be quiet for the next few days. We could go home early to your flat, have a bit of a long weekend.” A moment later: “I can make those eggs you like and wake you up with a blowjob. Doesn’t that sound like domestic heaven?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Jack,” Ianto replies sternly, sighing. He sets his mug down on the cluttered coffee table, making a faint reminder to tidy the mess when he returns. There’s no point tidying it now only to have Jack and Gwen ruin his efforts in the matter of a few hours once he leaves. “I go to Scotland every year.”

“Yes, but-” Jack begins, but there is no need for him to go on. Ianto knows very well what the other man was about to say. 

_ Yes, but you haven’t left my side, left my sight, in over four months _ . That’s how long it’s been since the bombings, since Tosh and Owen died - and it’s only been two months since Ianto has been able to think about the deaths of his friends without feeling the immediate need to down a bottle of whisky to numb the grief, and in that time, Jack and Ianto have become completely co-dependent. Well, Jack more-so than Ianto. He never mentions his time underground, just like he never mentions the year he and Martha lived that no one else did, but it’s changed Jack. He constantly needs Ianto in his eyesight. Jack has almost completely moved into Ianto’s flat, and the nights they aren’t sleeping there, they are together in the Hub. It would almost be stifling if Ianto didn’t harbor his own compulsions to constantly touch Jack, to ensure that Jack is really here, not a ghost like Owen or Tosh or Lisa.

Which is why, despite the weeks he spent musing and fretting, Ianto has come to the decision that they need to spend these four days apart, if not for them then for Torchwood Three to continue to operate smoothly. Gwen can’t hold the place up alone.

“Hey,” says Ianto softly, interlacing his fingers with Jack’s, “it’s just four days. It’ll feel like no time. We’ll be texting and calling constantly.” He leans closer, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to Jack’s lips that he hopes conveys everything he is too afraid to say -  _ I would never leave you _ and  _ I need you  _ and  _ I love you _ . “Besides, Gwen will still be here.”

Jack is not completely satisfied with Ianto’s response and protests at least twice more as he loads Ianto’s bag into the car, but now he sounds more half-hearted than anything. It takes only a few more kisses and promises of filthy texts and late night phone calls before Ianto can finally slip away and into his Audi.

As he begins to drive away, Jack in his rearview mirror, he tells himself that he’s not making a mistake and leaving irrevocably. 

* * *

**Day 1: Afternoon**

_ Jack Harkness _ :

How are you settling in at Torchwood House? How was the drive up?

_ Ianto Jones _ :

Relentless. The drive was long enough; I’m bloody exhausted, but Archie wants me down in the archives immediately. Barely even gave me ten minutes to get settled into my room. I expect he’ll be hammering at the door soon enough.

_ Jack Harkness _ :

Sounds like good old Archie. He was always impatient. Even in bed.

_ Ianto Jones _ :

Jack, I am about to go spend seven hours in one of the largest yet most unorganized archives I have ever seen. I have no desire to hear about your old exploits before that, especially if they pertain to a certain grumpy Scottish bastard.

_ Jack Harkness _ :

Alright, alright. Point taken, Mr. Jones.

_ Ianto Jones _ :

How’s the Hub?

_ Jack Harkness _ :

Empty, silent.

_ Ianto Jones _ :

Where’s Gwen?

_ Jack Harkness _ :

Out on a quick retrieval. Rift dropped something in the middle of town. The Rift monitor registered it as small, rather harmless. She should be fine. Getting back any minute in fact.

_ Ianto Jones _ :

Sounds like the Rift will be pretty quiet for a bit. That’s good. You and Gwen deserve a bit of peace and quiet. 

_ Jack Harkness _ :

There is such a thing as too much quiet, Ianto. I’m going to be so lonely now, just me and my right hand, alone in my bunker.

_ Ianto Jones _ :

I hope you’ll be pleased to know that I can picture your bloody pout. Besides, you have plenty of toys in the chest beneath your bed. I think you’ll find that I added several new ones in anticipation of my trip.

_ Jack Harkness _ : 

Oh, Ianto Jones, you spoil me. 

_ Ianto Jones _ :

Hush, Jack. I have a pristine reputation to keep. People will begin to posit you’ve corrupted me.

_ Jack Harkness _ :

If anything, you’ve corrupted me! You and your studly big cock…

_ Ianto Jones _ :

JACK! 

_ Jack Harkness _ :

C’mon, you’ve always wanted to try sexting. 

_ Ianto Jones _ :

Archie will be calling for me any moment now. I DO NOT want to face him with a raging hard-on.

_ Jack Harkness _ :

Ianto...you’re always ruining my fun!

_ Ianto Jones _ :

I was right. I can hear Archie now. I’ll talk to you later.

_ Ianto Jones _ :

~~ I love you. ~~

* * *

**Day 1: Evening**

**_Transcript of a phone call between Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones_ **

[ _ Jack, sitting in his office with his legs propped on his desk, dials Ianto’s number again, pressing his phone under his ear. In Scotland, Ianto returns from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, only to notice three missed calls from Jack on his phone. His expression morphs into one of concern, and he immediately answers the incoming call. _ ]

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Urgently _ ] What? What happened?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Blithely, shivering slightly at the sound of Ianto’s voice _ ] Nothing! I just missed you. Is that not enough of an excuse for a man to call his...right-hand man? [ _ The last part trails off and is said lamely. _ ]

_ Ianto Jones:  _ Jack… [ _ He sighs. _ ] 

_ Jack Harkness:  _ How are you, Ianto? How was your day?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ Tiring. [ _ There is the sound of him settling down on the bed. _ ] Archie has no sense of organization. He didn’t start me at the beginning or at the end of the archives. He made me start right in the fucking middle. What kind of psychopath begins organizing the archives from the middle?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Chuckles _ ] Archie doe-

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Sternly _ ] Don’t laugh at me, Captain Jack Harkness, or you’ll be left with the company of your right hand for months. [ _ When he hears Jack groan, he smiles mischievously. _ ] What did you and Gwen get up to today?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Audibly pouting _ ] It was a Rift gift kinda day. Gwen came back with a thirty-seventh century Blaxian wedding locket. They’re kinda slim and made of this shiny, translucent material native to the planet. We had a hell of a time looking through the wedding holograms. Gwen was excited. [ _ He smiles widely. _ ] It’s days like these you remember there’s more to life in the universe than just horrors, that there’s wonders too. [ _ Drops his voice to a whisper _ ] You would have loved it.

_ Ianto Jones:  _ That does sound lovely. Blaxia’s a planet from the Medrese Galaxy, right? [ _ Towards the end of his words, his voice catches on a deep yawn. _ ]

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Playfully _ ] Tired of me already? We’ve only been talking for about five minutes now.

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Voice dripping with sincere apology _ ] I’m sorry, Jack. It’s been a long day, and I have another one to look forward to.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Warmly, affectionately _ ] Go to bed, Ianto Jones. I’ll text you in the morning.

_ Ianto Jones:  _ Night.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ Night.

[ _ The phone call ends. Smiling, Jack drops his cell phone onto his desk and slumps back further against his chair. Ianto slips into bed and dreams of Jack. _ ]

* * *

**Day 2: Morning**

_ Jack Harkness: _

Morning!

_ Ianto Jones: _

It’s barely dawn, Jack. Weevil hunting?

_ Jack Harkness: _

Yup! Didn’t want to drag Gwen from bed and get Rhys bitching at me. Why are you awake so early? How’d you sleep?

_ Ianto Jones: _

Archie came to wake up, but I was already awake before he knocked on my door. Nightmares.  ~~ They’re worse without you next to me. ~~ It feels like I was the one dragged out of bed before dawn to go Weevil hunting.

_ Jack Harkness: _

Hey, more often than not, that ends pleasurably for you.

_ Ianto Jones: _

You giving me a handjob in the backseat of the SUV doesn’t always make up for three hours of sleep, especially when we have to chase a Hoix across Cardiff later in the day. And then parlay with a delegation of alien diplomats who want to kidnap you to join their queen’s harem.

_ Jack Harkness: _

That was ONCE!

_ Ianto Jones: _

Once was enough. Besides, you nearly went with them.

_ Jack Harkness: _

Hey, it’s nice to be wanted. Course, I wasn’t actually going to go with them. I’ve got a lover worthy of a queen (and king) whose bed I share.  ~~ That bed felt empty without you there. ~~ And the Hub is basically a kingdom where I’m king.

_ Ianto Jones: _

You’d make a horrible king. You never do your paperwork without me nagging you. All your subjects would have starved by now, and Gwen and I would have staged a coup.

_ Jack Harkness: _

Fine, you can be king, and I’ll just be part of your harem.

_ Ianto Jones: _

Great. Lovely. Martha and Gwen would love to join my court then. I’d be a generous king. Coffee three times a day and the first Friday of the month off. But of course, my subjects would have to do their paperwork.

_ Jack Harkness: _

You’ve been conspiring with Gwen too much, I see. Should I be worried about an actual Torchwood coup behind my back?

_ Ianto Jones: _

I doubt I’d look as good in the coat as you do, so...no. Time for me to be off now so I can get to the archives and organize the right way. 

_ Jack Harkness: _

You look good in anything. Or nothing. Good luck against Archie! He’s one stubborn bastard.

* * *

**Day 2: Afternoon**

**_Transcript of a phone call between Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones_ **

[ _ Ianto is standing in a dusty aisle in the archives when his phone rings. In the Hub, Jack is perched on Ianto’s desk, a half-eaten sandwich in one hand, phone in the other. Ianto picks up. _ ]

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Teasingly _ ] Slow day?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Voice muffled as he speaks through a bite of his sandwich _ ] Told you what the Rift predictor said. You left anyway. [ _ He sounds playful rather than angry, but Ianto still sighs. _ ] What are you doing?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Movement and the sound of boxes being shifted along with a few grunts can be heard from his end of the line. _ ] Work. Like I told you I would. Like I promised Archie. I’m currently staring at a box of broken children’s toys from Queen Notte’s reign on the planet of Yavemiel. [ _ He scowls when he hears Jack take another bite of his sandwich. _ ] Can you just swallow already?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Smirking _ ] That’s not what you said last time I-

_ Ianto Jones:  _ No. Not while I’m working. Which is what you’re supposed to be doing too.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ He pouts, finishing off his sandwich. He balls the paper wrapper up and tosses it into Gwen’s trash can; Gwen shoots him a dirty look. _ ] Gwen says hi.

_ Gwen Cooper:  _ [ _ Yelling distantly _ ] Ask Ianto where he placed the files on the Slitheen in the archives. I found nothing under ‘S.’

_ Jack Harkness:  _ Gwen is-

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Rolling his eyes _ ] I heard her, thank you very much. Tell Gwen that anything on the Slitheens can be found under ‘R’ for Raxacoricofallapatorius.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ He audibly leers. _ ] Oh, I love those Welsh vowels. [ _ To Gwen: _ ] He said look under Raxacoricofallapatorius. [ _ Bringing the phone back to his ear _ ] She says thanks. Did I ever tell you about the time a Slitheen became the mayor of Cardiff?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Sighs, unsuccessful with trying to move a battered-looking box of DVDs to a new shelf _ ] Yes, Jack, you did. And you forget that I was Torchwood by then. We heard about the Doctor’s escapades back in London. 

_ Jack Harkness:  _ Well- [ _ Before he can reply, he’s cut off by Gwen’s loud call. _ ]

_ Gwen Cooper:  _ [ _ Voice echoing _ ] Weevil spotted on Hope Street, Jack! Tell Ianto I love him, but you have to hang up on him now.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Insulted _ ] I don’t tell you to hang up on Rhys!

_ Ianto Jones:  _ You do. All the time, in fact. [ _ A pause. _ ] Go capture that Weevil, Jack. We’ll talk later. Bye.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ Bye. [ _ He noticeably hesitates. _ ] Gwen says she loves you.

[ _ The call ends suddenly. Jack slips his greatcoat on and races out of the Hub, following Gwen. Ianto smiles, then slips his phone into his suit pocket. He turns back to the dusty shelves, resolving to find cleaning supplies somewhere. _ ]

* * *

**Day 2: Evening**

**_Transcript of a phone call between Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones_ **

[ _ Jack is standing in the middle of Ianto’s flat, gaze searching the living room as he waits for the call to dial. Ianto, on the other hand, sits wearily on his bed in Torchwood House. _ ]

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Eagerly _ ] Weevil’s been captured, so I called it an early day and sent Gwen home. Now, I’m standing in your flat thinking about what to order for dinner. What do you think? Indian? Chinese? That French place you like?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ He bows his head, sighing; his voice seems detached and almost uncaring. _ ] Whatever you want.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ He frowns immediately, shoulders stiffening. He’s worried about Ianto. _ ] You sound off. What’s wrong?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ Nothing… [ _ It’s an unconvincing lie. _ ]

_ Jack Harkness: _ [ _ Prompting _ ] Ianto…Ianto, tell me. That’s what we do now. We tell each other things.

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Curls up tighter on himself _ ] I found a whole cache of files that I’d never seen before on my previous visits. They were all on you. I presume Yvonne had instructed Archie to set them aside.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ He attempts a playful tone, but it’s more concerned than anything. _ ] Anything interesting there?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Numbly _ ] I knew I wasn’t the first; in fact, I’ve never harbored any delusions that I was any more special from everyone else you’ve… [ _ He sighs again, and to Jack’s Ianto-trained ears, he sounds miserable. _ ] Everyone’s listed there. Greg, Michael, Norton, Lucia...me. And they’ve almost all been Torchwood.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Inhales sharply _ ] Ianto…

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Not entirely listening to Jack _ ] Is that what happens? You lose someone and move right along? There’s always plenty of willing bodies at Torchwood. Torchwood operatives die young; they’re disposable. [ _ There’s strained silence where Jack fumbles for an answer and then Ianto snorts bitterly. _ ] I can’t imagine my life without you, Jack. I meant what I said when you were infected with the Good Thinking virus. 

_ Jack Harkness:  _ Ianto, please. [ _ His tone is helpless, pleading but hopeful. _ ] I meant what I said too. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone else. [ _ He smiles softly, eyes pained, but Ianto isn’t there to see his expression. _ ]

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ Words stilted _ ] Which is what?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ Bewildered _ ] Huh?

_ Ianto Jones:  _ How do you feel about me, Jack? You’ve never said. I know I’m not a part-time shag any more… [ _ He plays with the fraying edge of the blanket, fingers working distractedly. He sighs. _ ] With Lisa, telling her I loved her...that was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. I thought this, everything with you, would be difficult too, but it’s surprisingly easy. [ _ A beat. _ ] So tell me Jack. What is it that you feel about me?

_ Jack Harkness:  _ Ianto...I…. [ _ He trails off briefly while Ianto leans in eagerly. _ ] Ianto, I...I can’t do this. [ _ He rubs the bridge of his nose wearily. _ ] I’m sorry. I can’t right now.

_ Ianto Jones:  _ [ _ His tone has become cold. _ ] I see. Good night, Jack.

_ Jack Harkness:  _ [ _ pleadingly _ ] Ianto, wait. I do feel-

_ Ianto Jones: _ [ _ harshly _ ] Goodbye, Jack. Try me for phone sex tomorrow night. I might feel kindly enough to oblige.

[ _ Jack is left in harsh silence as the phone call ends. Frustrated and swearing, he tosses his cell phone against the wall and watches it shatter before he pours himself a glass of whisky from Ianto’s liquor collection. In Torchwood House, Ianto drops his phone to the nightstand and stares blankly up at the ceiling. The tears come later. _ ]

* * *

**Day 3: Morning**

**_Transcript of a voicemail from Jack Harkness to Ianto Jones_ **

_ Hey, it’s me. I don’t know if you’ve got my messages yet or if you’re not ignoring me, but I’ve called you like half a dozen times by now. If you don’t recognize the number, it’s because I got a new phone. I sorta...maybe broke it by throwing it against the wall. Even immortals have temper tantrums.  _ [Jack chuckles wryly before sighing.] _ It wasn’t you, Ianto. I just have a historically bad track record with saying those three little words to anyone.  _ [He inhales sharply.]  _ I do care about you, Ianto Jones. I have strong feelings for you; I can’t imagine my life without you...but that’s not enough, is it. We have so little time together that I need you to know that…damn, here it goes. I love you, Ianto Jones. You can insert something about the moon and stars or some other bullshit, but I love you, Ianto Jones, simple as that, and I’m coming up to Torchwood House to make sure you know that. So….  _ [He chuckles again, nervous now.]  _ So I really hope you hear this before I get there or it’ll be awkward for the both of us.  _ [A pause.]  _ I love you. I’m going to keep telling you that, Ianto. I love you. _

* * *

**Day 3: Evening**

The grounds of Torchwood House are lush and verdant, the grass sparkling with evening dew, as Ianto takes a walk, mind ruminating over his last conversation with Jack, shoulders slumped. He’s rounding near the front of the house when he sees a familiar figure - tall, broad-shoulders, a navy greatcoat flapping dramatically behind him - approaching. 

“Jack, what are you doing here?” Ianto asks, eyes wide, when the other man gets close enough to touch. He’s too bewildered to even remember that he’s supposed to be disappointed at Jack; in fact, his  _ aching _ heart gets momentarily overwhelmed by Jack’s familiar presence, just like it always does. 

Jack’s expression is open and hopeful, smile soft, and he places a hand on the base of Ianto’s neck and draws him in close, pressing their lips together in a dramatic, sweet kiss that causes Ianto’s entire body to tingle warmly and his heart to skip a beat. He rubs his thumb gently against Ianto’s cheekbone. Then, he wraps his arms around Ianto, embracing him, and Ianto breathes in the enticing scent of Jack’s pheromones. “I needed you to know,” Jack whispers. 

“Know what?” asks Ianto, and Jack only huffs a laugh against Ianto’s neck, burrowing his head closer and dropping kisses along the exposed skin.

“That I love you,” murmurs Jack in reply, eyebrows furrowing when he feels Ianto stiffens in his arms. He draws back and takes a good, long, hard look at Ianto’s expression. “You didn’t listen to my voicemail.” His tone is disappointed and slightly hurt.

“My phone was dead,” Ianto replies, nose flaring, distracted by where Jack’s fingers had previously been tracing shapes against the sensitive skin of his wrist, “and I wasn’t necessarily ecstatic to hear your voice, not after last night.”

Jack steps back, and immediately, Ianto feels cold, missing Jack’s presence by his side. “I see,” Jack says, words a bit curt. Still, he pulls out his own phone - a new model, Ianto notices - and thumbs around a bit until he hits the play button.

“ _ Hey, it’s me. I don’t know if you’ve got my messages yet or if you’re not ignoring me, but I’ve called you like half a dozen times by now _ ,” Jack’s voice crackles through his phone speaker, and Jack ducks his head, but Ianto’s too engrossed with the voicemail to notice, inhaling sharply as Jack rambles on and on. “ _ I love you. I’m going to keep telling you that, Ianto. I love you. _ ”

Then the voicemail ends, and in the silence, Jack and Ianto stare awkwardly at each other. Ianto doesn’t like this silence. Silence between the two of them has always been comfortable, easy, just like their relationship.

Raising his hand to his mouth, Jack stifles a cough. “So clearly,” he begins quietly, “you hadn’t heard your voicemail. Um…” This is one of the few times Ianto has ever seen Jack Harkness bashful. Jack sways slightly on his heels. “I’ll just go tell Archie I found you, and then I guess I’ll just start driving back. I left Gwen at the Hub, and she won’t be too pleased with me if she has to stay any longer than I promised. Date night with Rhys, I think.” He shrugs, then turns to head back to the house.

“Jack, wait!” Ianto blurts out, hurrying after Jack. He catches the other man by the wrist and pulls him until they face each other again. “I’m sorry.” He swallows nervously, heart thudding out of his chest. “I just didn’t expect you to show up and say it... _ fuck _ . This is clearly not the reception you’d imagined.” He swallows once again, mouth suddenly dry. His palms are warm and sweaty where they cling to Jack. “I love you, Jack Harkness.”

“ _ Oh _ .” Jack’s beautiful blue eyes spark with surprise and joy, the disappointment fading away. “I love you too, but I’ve already told you that several times.” Hesitantly, he reaches for Ianto’s hands and threads their fingers together. They slowly begin the trek back to the house, hand-in-hand.

“How long had you planned to come for?” Ianto’s gaze is hopeful, questioning, but he doesn’t say much else. He’s always been a man of few words in comparison to Jack; he’s always been one more for small gestures - coffee, mending Jack’s greatcoat, giving Jack a key to his flat - whereas Jack is one of grander, more dramatic gestures - leaving Ianto a monologuing voicemail and surprising him by driving to Scotland. 

Jack shrugs. “I didn’t necessarily plan anything, but on the drive up, I was thinking that I could call Martha for a favor and maybe get UNIT in Cardiff for a few days, so even Gwen gets a break. That way, I could spend a day or two in Scotland with you.” He attempts a wry smirk. “That okay with you?”

Ianto smiles, stepping closer to Jack’s side, taking in a heady whiff of his pheromones. “That sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked that! Comment, kudo, bookmark, do whatever you need lmao.
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik). I tweet and reblog mostly Torchwood with occasionally amusing commentary on nonsense. Please come talk to me and tell me if/how much you like my fic or like ask me about it on tumblr; all my schoolwork has become remote now, and I have limited social interaction.


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